


It's Not the Last Time

by 2babyturtles



Series: Tumblr Fanfic Prompts [7]
Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Cotton Candy Fluff, Established Johnlock, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, Kite Festival, Love, M/M, Parent!lock, Parent-Child Relationship, Parentlock, Picnic, Prompt Fill, Romance, Sweet, Tumblr Prompt, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2babyturtles/pseuds/2babyturtles
Summary: The air seems to crackle as Sherlock’s eyes narrow. He opens his mouth and then shuts it again. His eyebrows pull a series of expressions, and he can’t seem to decide whether he wants to be sincere or sarcastic. “I would like that very much,” he finally says, standing. “I never say no to a picnic.”A laugh escapes John’s mouth as he passes his daughter off to the detective. “That’s bull,” he says. “I’m happy you’re coming, but that’s bull. You said ‘no’ two days ago when I asked the first time.”





	It's Not the Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Prompt #7: "I never say no to a picnic."

Sherlock watches John as he bustles about the flat. With Rosie on his left hip and his right hand darting about, he seems more like a whirlwind than a man, particularly since he’s so rarely awake at this time of day that the sight of him in the kitchen is a strange one. The diaper bag is packed first and he quickly moves to the basket on the table.

“Sandwiches, tea, biscuits, honey, toys, book, phone…I think that’s everything!” he decides happily.

Sherlock’s eyebrows are pulled together and he can’t seem to push away the funny feeling in his stomach. He’s quite certain he’s not hungry, but watching his flatmate get excited for the day makes him want…something. He can’t quite place it.

John notices Sherlock’s expression and raises a smug eyebrow. “You know, Sherlock,” he starts, shifting Rosie to a more comfortable position. “I think it would be rather fun if you wanted to join us. I know you were less than enthusiastic when I posed the idea, but it has to be better than sitting around the flat all day.”

The air seems to crackle as Sherlock’s eyes narrow. He opens his mouth and then shuts it again. His eyebrows pull a series of expressions, and he can’t seem to decide whether he wants to be sincere or sarcastic. “I would like that very much,” he finally says, standing. “I never say no to a picnic.”

A laugh escapes John’s mouth as he passes his daughter off to the detective. “That’s bull,” he says. “I’m happy you’re coming, but that’s bull. You said ‘no’ two days ago when I asked the first time.”

“Ah, well. I wouldn’t want to seem too easy,” Sherlock winks, causing a faint blush to rise in John’s neck.

When they arrive at the park, Sherlock is surprised to find it busy. He turns to John with panicked eyes, but doesn’t have to wait long. “It’s the kite festival,” John responds eagerly, pointing out a tree that might provide some comfortable shade. “We came to watch the kites.”

“ _I_ came for a picnic!”

“Ah, well. I wouldn’t want to make it too easy.” Sherlock might’ve blushed, too, if he wasn’t so busy scowling.

He looks Rosie sternly in the face. “We don’t have to go through with this, Watson,” he tells her.

“Choo choo!” she shouts, ignoring his comment. She stretches out a finger to point at a particularly large kite in the shape of a red steam engine.

Sherlock sighs. “Yes, very well,” he concedes. “But just for a bit.” His eyes follow her finger and his jaw drops when he sees the train. “They make kites that look like…not kites?”

John laughs, putting an arm on Sherlock’s shoulder and leading him to the spot he’d pointed out. “They make kites that look like lots of things,” he responds sweetly. “And we get to see all of them, don’t we Rosie?”

When the site is set—complete with a pitcher of iced tea and a plush blanket—Sherlock sets Rosie down. She’s able to walk now, and running will undoubtedly come soon, but she seems more content to sit between her daddies and watch the kites go by overhead. John passes out the sandwiches, laughing when he notices Sherlock’s eyes fixed in the sky.

“You’ve never seen a kite festival?” John asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“No,” Sherlock breathes, tearing his eyes away to look at John’s face. The older man smiles softly, just a hint on his mouth, with most of it shining in his eyes, and extends a hand to rest on Sherlock’s knee. “Thank you, John.”

“Thank _you_ ,” John responds sternly. “I really am glad you came.”

Mischief twinkles in Sherlock’s eyes as he leans forward and whispers in John’s ear: “Dear, with a date like this, it’s not the last time I’m going to come today.”


End file.
